After the Kiss
by klemonademouth
Summary: He picked up his pillow, pressed it to his face, and screamed at the top of his lungs. Then he felt ridiculous, because he was acting like a twelve-year-old girl with a silly crush on the most popular boy in school, who'd just said "hi" to her. Klaine.


**A/N: This is a random thought I had when I was picturing the aftermath of _that kiss_.**

**Tumblr post of mine: "I have this image of both Kurt and Blaine going home after the kiss, running up to their room, and freaking out like twelve-year-old girls. like, screaming into their pillows, dancing around the room, singing at their reflections with hairbrushes. Giggling goofily with copious flailing."**

**And then it wouldn't leave my head, so I wrote it.**

**Disclaimer: I don't own Glee.**

There would be so, so many more amazing moments in their relationship. The time Kurt would get down on one knee and propose to Blaine, only for Blaine to admit that he'd been trying to figure out how to ask the same question for months. Their first slow dance as a couple, at their junior prom. When they'd move into their first apartment together. That horribly awkward and yet somehow magical night when they'd go all the way for the first time.

But right now, their relationship was new, and Kurt wasn't thinking ten years into the future, or even ten months or ten weeks or ten _days_. He was thinking ten _hours_, when he'd next see Blaine again and he'd actually get to hold his hand and kiss him and do all that he'd dreamed of for months now. He was thinking ten _minutes_, when Blaine would call him on his cell phone, having reached his house, and they'd whisper to each other late into the night. He was thinking ten _seconds_, when he'd reach his room, lock the door, and scream at the top of his lungs.

His bedroom door slammed loudly behind him, and he locked it swiftly, crossing the room to fall onto his bed, grinning up at the ceiling and feeling the ridiculous urge to actually punch the air. He usually left the cheesy gestures to Blaine, but he figured that maybe they'd be justified this time, so he did it.

It only expressed his joy a small amount- not nearly enough to satisfy the bubble of happiness swelling in his throat and chest- so he picked up one of his pillows, pressed it to his face, and screamed at the top of his lungs.

Then he felt ridiculous, because he was acting like a twelve-year-old girl with a silly crush on the most popular boy in school, who'd just said "hi" to her.

Except the most popular boy in school was now his _boyfriend_, and he'd definitely said _way_ more than "hi" to Kurt.

Kurt screamed into the pillow again.

His heart was pounding, his hands were shaking as he pulled the pillow against his chest and fell back on his bed, grinning so widely his cheeks actually _hurt_.

He replayed it in his head, this time analyzing from the beginning the way Blaine wouldn't meet his eyes when he first walked into the room, the way he hesitated and closed his eyes before speaking after Kurt asked why Blaine had picked _him_ for the duet. The way his voice had caught and quavered on a few words (_"you move me, Kurt"_), the honesty in his tone, the way he hesitated again before finally, _finally_ leaning forward to kiss him. The way Blaine had blushed when they'd finally pulled apart with a wet sort of pop that made Kurt go weak at the knees all over again. The look on Blaine's face right before he lunged in for the second kiss, like he was desperate for it, _needed_ it, needed _Kurt_.

He let his eyes slip shut as he replayed the second kiss, the third, the fourth- the way Blaine's _tongue_ had slipped in his mouth, tentatively, then with more enthusiasm as Kurt opened his mouth wider. The way Blaine had arched his neck when Kurt had summoned up enough courage to kiss down his throat, the way his gasp had sounded in Kurt's ear when Kurt sucked a bit of skin into his mouth. The way he whispered in Kurt's ear that he was sorry he'd taken so long, sorry that they could have been doing this for months, sorry that he'd never realized before this just how wonderful- until Kurt sealed his lips back over Blaine's, murmuring against Blaine's mouth, telling him to "shut up and let me kiss you."

The way his entire body felt like it was on fire (in the best possible way) when Blaine slowly sank onto his lap, straddling Kurt's hips and pressing Kurt further against the back of the chair, sucking Kurt's bottom lip up into his mouth, causing Kurt to gasp out his name. The way Blaine pulled away then, resting his forehead against Kurt's as both of them panted for air. The way both of them knew exactly when the other had recovered, and reached for each other again in some sort of unspoken, mutual knowledge.

The way they'd kissed like that, right there, for _hours_, until Kurt's phone buzzed angrily with a text message from Burt, wondering where the hell he was, and the way Blaine led him to his car and kissed him there again, until his lips felt sore and tingly.

The way he hadn't listened to _any_ music in his car ride home- a first for him- so he could replay Blaine's broken, nervous, heartachingly honest confession over and over again in his head. _You move me... and this duet would just be an excuse to spend more time with you._

His eyes snapped open and he flailed a little on his bed, kicking out his arms and legs, disturbing his perfectly made sheets. He wanted to sing something at the top of his lungs. He wanted to run around outside the house screaming at the top of his voice until his lungs gave out and he collapsed on the front lawn, staring up at the starry sky and letting the wet grass seep into his clothes.

He allowed himself to flail a little more, rolling over on his bed to press his face into a pillow and giggle madly.

His heart was beating triple-time, his entire body shuddering uncontrollably as he played it over and over in his head, sometimes starting at the part when Blaine walked into the room, sometimes starting at the moment when Blaine leaned in slowly to kiss Kurt. Every time he imagined it, his stomach clenched in a tight, firey knot and his fingers flew up to press against his bruised lips, remembering the way Blaine's had felt against them, the way Blaine's had _tasted_ against them.

He stuffed his fist in his mouth to head off his fit of giggles.

Blaine was too full of nervous energy. He drummed his fingers against the steering wheel. He bounced up and down, pulling at his seatbelt. He rolled down the window to let the cold air sting his face sharply, and belted out "Teenage Dream" at the top of his lungs, because that was how he felt- like he was living a Teenage Dream, as cheesy as it was, because _finally_. Because Kurt's hair actually _was_ as soft as it looked, and because Kurt had gasped a little when Blaine had tugged on it. And because Kurt was a _fabulous_ kisser, and because Blaine's blood had sort of boiled in his veins when Kurt had rolled his hips up into the kiss, because _oh wow_.

A bubble of hysterical laughter rose up in his throat; his grin threatened to crack his face. He hit green lights the whole way home, which was probably a sign for something.

He zipped past his mother sitting in the kitchen at an inhuman speed, not wanting her to see his blushing cheeks and tousled hair and wrinkled clothes and kiss-bitten lips.

He made it to his room in record time, slamming the door and locking it before collapsing on his bed, laughing. He was too restless to stay still- he leapt up again, standing on his bed and stretching until his fingertips grazed the ceiling. He bounced up and down a little, then a little more as that insane feeling of joy welled up in him again.

He kissed Kurt. _He_ kissed _Kurt_, and he'd found the person he'd been looking for since he'd watched Ariel and Cinderella and Sleeping Beauty and Belle get their happy endings when he was six years old. He'd _found_ his handsome prince- someone he'd overlooked for so long, and someone he'd under appreciated. He'd _found_ him, and _kissed_ him, and _Kurt had kissed him back_.

And it had been real, and ten _million_ times better than he'd ever expected or imagined or dreamed of when he was young. He hadn't anticipated the way his stomach swooped when Kurt met his eyes and asked that innocently curious question, or the way his stomach tensed when he crossed that final line, the point of no return, when he leaned in for that touch of the lips. He hadn't anticipated the heat that would build in his stomach when Kurt's hand curled around his tie when Blaine tried to pull away from the second kiss, yanking him back.

He bounced up off the bed again, bounding over to his dresser to switch on his stereo, turning up the volume until his speakers started to sound scratchy. He jumped up onto his desk chair, singing into his fist and bracing his foot against the back of the chair until it tipped to the floor, rock-star style. He spun around quickly, adding a backflip in for good measure, nearly knocking over a large, framed family picture that was sitting on his desk.

He _knew_ he was supposed to call Kurt now. He'd promised to as soon as he got home. But he was so afraid that he would scream into the phone or giggle obnoxiously or say something stupid like a lovestruck preteen girl.

He was sure Kurt was acting far more dignified about this than he was. He was sure that _Kurt_ hadn't fallen back on his bed with a hysterical sort of giggle (like Blaine just had), clutching a pillow against his chest and beaming up at the ceiling.

He forced himself to breathe deeply, in and out a few times, then reached for his cellphone to dial the number he knew by heart.

Kurt picked up after one ring, and that alone did funny things to Blaine's stomach.

"Hi," Kurt said, and he sounded slightly breathless, and Blaine was reminded of _I thought we were_ and their second kiss.

"Hi," Blaine breathed back, and they were silent for a minute until Kurt giggled, a little nervously.

"This is weird, isn't it?"

"Good weird," Blaine said, wishing he could see Kurt's face. "Don't you think?"

"Definitely good weird," Kurt assured him quickly. "Just... weird. I mean, you're _you_, and-"

"And?" Blaine said, in a somewhat teasing tone.

"And I'm _me,_ and-"

"And what is that supposed to mean?" Blaine asked, still in that teasing tone, as he hugged the pillow more tightly against him and maybe pretended it was Kurt a little bit.

There was a light, airy laugh from the other end that did _really_ funny things to Blaine's heart, then Kurt spoke. "I've liked you for a long, long time, Blaine."

This time Blaine couldn't help himself- he actually pressed the pillow to his face to stop himself from giggling like an idiotic little schoolgirl.

"So what are you doing?" Kurt asked in a breathy voice.

They talked until almost one in the morning, when Blaine's dad came and knocked on his door and asked him why in God's name was he still up? They had that embarrassing "you-hang-up-first-no-_you_-hang-up-first" conversation before Kurt whispered "sweet dreams" and they both turned off their cellphones and flailed around on their beds for a little longer, setting their alarms for a little earlier in the morning so they could be the first one to the coffee shop and save _their table_ (they would both laugh when they showed up at the same time, fifteen minutes earlier than usual).

They both fell asleep with giant smiles on their faces.

**A/N: fanboy Klaine makes me so happy.**


End file.
